The Quest for Dovahkiin
by CyberAngelAlexis
Summary: It has been 20 years since the hero of Skyrim, Dovahkiin, has disappeared and all have assumed she is dead. But for a Khajiit Mage and High Elf Archer, they go on the adventure of a lifetime when circumstances forces them to work together. But along the way, they discover a terrible plot to destroy all of Tamriel unless they can find the great hero before time runs out...
1. Prologue

**Hello Angel here and congrads on clicking on my first "Elder Scroll 5: Skyrim" fan fiction. I have had this idea for a few months since I played my 'Sell Sword' Redguard account and decided, "why not? Let's write a Skyrim fanfic since I like this game so much"**

**First a few times:**

**1: This takes place about 20 or so years after the Dragonborn defeats Alduin. I will try to keep this story neutral when it comes to the Civil War as I agree with both sides but I also disagree with their tactics for bringing peace to Skyrim. However there will be references to the Civil War and the views of both the Stormcloaks and the Imperials. Please respect that, thank you.**

**2: There are three OC's in here: The Dragonborn and the two adventures.**

**3: There will be violence, death, hatred, racism (very small amount I am hoping to type, no need to increase the amount of hate out there) and all the jazz that makes up Skyrim. So this is rated T until further notice. It may or may not change, that depends of future chapters.**

**I DO NOT OWN THE ELDER SCROLLS OR SKYRIM, THAT BELONGS TO Bethesda Game Studios/** **Bethesda Softworks. THE ONLY THING I OWN, in a way, ARE THE TWO ADVENTURERS OC'S AND THE PLOT FOR THIS FIC.**

**THIS IS UNOFFICIALLY BETA-ED BY THE WONDERFUL "skyflower51" WHO'S FIC, "Night Eye" INSPIRED THIS FIC. MANY THANKS TO HER!**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

The rain fell softly on the hooded figure as he rode steadily on the horse down the cobbled path, his eyes never straying from the stones in front of him. Though it wasn't raining hard and there was no wind, the rain still steep into the heavy cloak and clothing he was wearing, chilling him and his horse almost to the bone.

The man grunted as he pulled on the reins and the horse stopped as he took a look around. The rain was a true nuisance; the steady rain over the past few days he had been travelling along this divine forsaken path had made everything wet and slippery, and the gathering mist was not helping either.

The horse beneath shuddered as it let out a cough-like sound, and was rewarded by his rider with a swift blow to its neck. It let out a small cry in pain as it set off again and his rider grumbled. Stupid animal, it wasn't worth the small fortune he invested in it back at the stables. The sooner it died, the sooner he would have a decent meal out of it. And using some pieces as bait to draw some the carnivores that prowled the land for their pelts would be a nice bonus as well.

As they continued to trudge along the slick cobbled path, the rider's thoughts turned back to the letters that he had received over the course of the few months since the Dragonborn had disappeared. Dragonborn, _Dovahkiin_, the word caused hate to burn inside him like a nasty poison. That hero had caused him great misfortunate and great losses but hopefully that would change when he was to meet his new partner.

The letters….they had just appeared one day on his doorstep after word had gotten out that the Dragonborn was nowhere to be found, not in any inn or any of the properties that she had owned throughout the holds. The letters had been simple in the beginning; a simple 'hello' and asking him how was business was since the Dragonborn had gotten involved in everything that he hold dear to his coin purse. He had simply burned them but they continued to arrive until he finally replied in a drunken rage and his reply back wasn't anything he had expected.

The letters after that talked about how there were others like him, men and woman who truly saw what the Dovahkiin was; a past-due hero that was too much involved in politics and the health of the holds. How people were pushed to the side in favour of the Dragonborn's thoughts and words of wisdom. What did someone who fought for a living know about what was right for the citizens of Skyrim?

Interested, he replied saying how the Dragonborn had disturbed many of his….'underhanded' deals that had helped his good home and how he was cast as the villain while that stupid woman was revered as a hero of the people. His mysterious sender's reply was how he could make a great fortune if he was joined forces with him and his 'organization', and not only that, but his reputation would be repaired and he would be idolized even greater than the Dragonborn.

This interested him greatly but he could smell a bad deal a mile away and demanded that before he made any decisions, they were to meet face to face and he was to know what the plan was that would make him as great and powerful as his mysterious sender said he would.

No word came after that for a few weeks and he thought that whoever had sent him the letters had realized he was caught and had decided to try and fool someone else. What he didn't expected was to have a large crate, filled with supplies that one would use on long journeys to appear on his doorstep with a simple letter that said to meet him in some distance tomb , far from any town in the farthest corner of Skyrim.

And yet, here he was: on a horse that was better much half dead to him on a path that could take him and his beast into the swelling river on his right, in the middle of nowhere with only the thoughts of heavy coin purses and being idolized like one of the great Nine Divines to keep him warm.

The cobbled path suddenly forked, one going straight and one disappearing into the thickening forest to his left. Remembering the map that was at the inn where he had last stopped, he took the left path and was rewarded with some relief as the trees shielded him from the rain. Continuing down the path, he came to a large tomb, old and falling apart but the place where everything would either be worth it or a total waste of time.

The steps leading into the tomb were cracked and crumbling. The trees that were growing around the tomb plus all the weeds and vines that were crowded the entrance made it look like the gaping mouth and stringy hair of a hagraven.

Getting off his horse, he tied it to a tree that was nearby the entrance and carefully walked up the stairs, anticipation and some fear gnawing at his stomach like skeevers on old bones. Pushing on the doors that creaked and groaned loudly their protest as he entered the tomb, the stale and musty air of death and dust greeted him and nothing else.

"Hello?" he called, his voice echoing in the unnatural silence of the tomb, "I received your letter, and I am here. I am alone and I made sure I wasn't followed, just like you specified. Where are you and your so called 'organization'?"

There was no replied and he could feel his patience run out, he had been had after all. This was some stunt at his expense of being a 'victim' in the Dragonborn's crusade for justice and equality.

"You useless son of a diseased maiden from Riften!" he yelled. He knew that his insult was childish but it was the best he could think of with the cold and exhaustion beginning to take its effect on him. "If I ever find you, I'll turn you in meat pudding and feed you to skeevers while you're still somehow alive!"

He turned around fuming with rage and, almost literally, jumped out of his cloak. There standing right behind him was a hooded figure, dressed in all black with some kind of mask over part of the face that he could see that wasn't covered by the hood.

"A-are you the one who sent me the letters?" he stammered, his teeth beginning to chatter. Whether it was from the cold or fear, he didn't know. The figure didn't reply but only pointed to the amulet that hung around his neck.

"I-I can't see it, it's too dark," he said and just as the words were out of his mouth, a flame flared up on his right and he couldn't help but cower, thinking that he had somehow angered his host and that he was to be burnt to death. When he didn't feel any pain, he uncovered his eyes and saw that the cloaked and robed figure had just lit a torch, how he did it so suddenly and silently he didn't know.

Keeping a warring eye on him…or her or whoever was holding the torch, he took a glance at the amulet. The symbols on the amulet where exactly the same as the symbol that had been on the letters and the wax seal. So this was the same person who had sent him the letters….or someone who was part of his organization.

"I see, so you are the one who sent me the letter, or part of his little 'organization'. What is with all the cloak and dagger? Who are you scared of that you do all of this?' he asked, his fear going away as his rude arrogance took his place. The figure said nothing, only closing the tomb door and stepping around him and making his way towards the doorway that lead deeper into the tomb.

"Hey! I am talking to you!" he called after the retreating figure but when he or she didn't reply or even turn around, he let out a hiss in anger but decided that he would follow. Taking up a slight jog until he caught up with the figure, he looked around the tomb as they made their way deeper and deeper in. The wall had carvings of what looked like old Nord battles against creatures such as trolls and huge sabre cats. But the further they went in, the stranger the walls seem to become.

The color of the walls changed from gray and smooth with carvings to brown and rugged, as if the old Nords who made the tomb got lazy and decided that it was too much work to continue making the tomb a shrine to their fallen comrades. His companion in front of him suddenly stopped and he couldn't help but run into him/her. Peering past the stranger, he saw that they had come to a door. The figure raised his hand, and he saw that it was also covered in fabric, meaning he was wearing gloves. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, they were going all out on the cloak and dagger weren't they?

The figure knocked on the door three times, the sound echoing in the tomb. There seemed to be some kind of shuffling behind the door as it opened, leading into an inky blackness. The figure didn't hesitate to put out the torch and step into the room and he bumbling followed, as he had no idea what was ahead.

Suddenly, it seemed that light exploded around him, causing him to shield his eyes and stumble as he fell to the ground. Quickly blinking his eyes, he stood up and looked around him. There were more figures wearing robes and cloaks, all of them wearing masks and amulets with the same markings on them.

"Welcome friend" said a voice that seemed to boom throughout the room and he turned and saw a man sitting poised in an almost regal manner upon a large, throne-like stone seat. "I am glad you have made your way here. I hope your journey hasn't exhausted you?"

"You think? You think?! I have ridden in rain that has made the paths mud and made the river swell like it was drunk! I am tired and hungry and I have wasted a small fortune on a useless beast to travel here to meet some crack pot and his little 'organization' that is scared of some stupid guards from a disease ridden hold that will only place a fine on them! And you have the balls to say that you 'are glad' and 'hope that my journey hasn't exhausted' me!?" he roared, his lack of sleep and answers plus the cold that was now seeping into his bones was finally making him lose control.

The figures around the room shuffled and hissed at him and but he ignored them; glaring at their leader with all the hate he could muster. The man laughed and jumped off his chair and strolled up to him like he was an old friend and clapped his hands on his shoulders in a joyful manner. The man, he could see now, was actually a Nord of a decent age, around his 40s or a bit younger, with thick brown curly hair and beard. His black eyes seem to dance and his white teeth against his sun kissed skin made for an odd comparison as he laugh in a way that seemed to rattle his wearing bones and said, "I am glad to hear that. It means that I wasn't wrong about you. I can see that we will have a good partnership together"

"I…what?" The Nord's words were lost on him as he let himself be turned and started to walk with the strange Nord towards a door. The Nord (who he decided to call "Alftand") just continued to smile and pushed open the door and all but practically pushed him in and closed the door with great force, causing it to rattle in its frame.

"I don't understand what…" he started but all words were lost on him when he saw what was in the middle of this new room. His jaw went slack at the sight before him. Never, in all of his years, had he ever seen such a sight. It was both so grotesque that he almost lost his meagre meal that he had had hours before but it was also so beautiful and breath taking that he felt like weeping and dancing for joy.

"This! This is what my organization has been trying to accomplish since the Dragonborn has disappeared" Alftand hissed, the strange and happy man was gone, all what was left was this dangerously venomous and possibly insane one. "This is what my life has been about. But I cannot do it alone; I need funding, I need connections, I need cover-ups to insure that no one knows what I have planned for all of Skyrim, and then all of Tamriel. This is why I have been scouting out possible partners, I need my partners help for my part but I know that when is said and done, I will need my partners by my side when the great battle arises. So tell me, are you in…or out?"

He swallowed and swallowed again. He could feel Alftand's eyes burning into him like a branding mark and he finally choked out, "I am with you. Where do I sign?"

The Nord smiled as he clapped his hands on the shoulders of the still extremely shocked man and turned to look at the scene in the center of the room and said in a low and dark voice, "No need for contracts my dear partner, all will be given their rightful reward when the time comes."

* * *

**AND THERE WE GO, FIRST CHAPTER DONE, EDITING AND REVISED WITHIN 4 DAYS. I SAY THAT'S A NEW RECORD FOR ME!**

**I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT AND THAT YOU WILL DROP A FAV AND A REVIEW. IF YOU DON'T, THE FROSTBITE SPIDERS MIGHT GET YOU! **

**Edit 03/07/2014-I have just changed some small errors but if you see some misspelled words or grammar, let me know. Thank-you.**


	2. Unbound

**HELLO EVERYONE! THANK YOU TO THE AWESOME PEOPLE YOU FAVED AND LIKED THE FIRST CHAPTER! READING THOSE REVIEWS ALWAYS GIVES ME THE WARM AND FUZZIES! XD**

**Now, it is time to meet the two great adventures who will save Skyrim and all of Tamriel from the evil plot that involves….whoops, not telling! XP**

**I DO NOT OWN THE ELDER SCROLLS OR SKYRIM, THAT BELONGS TO Bethesda Game Studios/ Bethesda Softworks. THE ONLY THING I OWN, in a way, ARE THE TWO ADVENTURERS OC'S AND THE PLOT FOR THIS FIC.**

**THIS IS UNOFFICIALLY BETA-ED BY THE WONDERFUL "skyflower51" WHO'S FIC, "Night Eye" INSPIRED THIS FIC. MANY THANKS TO HER!**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

_Twenty years have passed and no word has surfaced on the location of the hero of Skyrim, Dragonborn, and now all assume she has perished in some long forgotten ruin in search of treasure and adventure. But the truth of her disappearance and the tale that accompanies it is more than anyone could ever expect. Pull up a seat and grab a bottle of Nord mead, for the tale starts now…._

The first thing she noticed when she slowly came to was that her head was killing her; it felt like there was an Orc pounding away on it with a warhammer without a care in the world. The second thing she noticed that it was dark, the only light seeming to come from somewhere ahead of her, far to her right. Getting on her hands and knees, she slowly crawled her way towards the light but was stopped when her head hit something made out of metal.

Hissing some old swears she had picked up from listening to drunkards in seedy taverns; she placed a hand on the metal in front and felt it. They felt like bars but there were hinges on one side, she had just run into a door.

"You're up," said a male voice suddenly as light exploded in front of her, making her cry out in pain as she covered her eyes and dropped to the floor.

"Yes I'm up. What is it to you?" she snapped, sarcasm in her voice as she slowly blinked her eyes in an attempt to get use to the light so that she could see who was speaking.

"All that attitude and witty comebacks won't help you here _archer_," he said, and she could have sworn she heard the sneer in his voice, "In here, all you will have is time and those rags you are wearing."

Her eyes went wide as she checked, not wanting that to be true. She quickly scanned her cell and patted herself, looking for her pockets and coin purse. But it was, her wonderful leather light armour that she had just purchased days before: gone. Her bow and arrows: nowhere to be seen.

"What did you do to all of my things?" she asked, her voice and panic rising, "Where are they? Give them back! Let me go!"

"'I'm not going to do any such thing," he said. The glee in his voice made her sick, "In fact, I'm going to enjoy it…"

She glared at him and asked slowly, shaking with anger. "Then what is planned for me?"

As the Nord , who she saw now as a young man around the age of twenty summers with brown hair, a thick beard, tanned skin while wearing typical bandit clothing, continued to look down on her, she tried to stop shaking, _in case he thought it was from fear,_ and he only grinned and replied in a sly voice, "Wouldn't you like to know? It's a surprise."

And with that, he walked away taking the torch with him. She clenched her fists before slamming them on the door in front of her. No matter what it took, she would get out and she would wipe that smug look off from his ugly face if it was the last thing she would do.

"If you keep making that much noise, you'll get us in trouble" said a voice to her left, making her jump. She didn't know there was someone else in here.

"Who are you? Friend or foe?" she asked.

"I am no foe as they wouldn't accept someone like me into their group, but I am not friend since I have never met you before. So I guess you can say is that I am someone who is stuck in the same boat as you." was her reply and she couldn't help but scoff at it.

"They got a scholar in here? Just great, I can hear you contemplating the universe as I die" she snorted as she slowly crawled back towards the straw bedding that was in her cell.

"Not quite. Yes, I have read many books and I have meet scholars that have stayed sometimes at the College but I am no scholar. I am a true Mage, born and raised around magic in the College of Winterhold."

She snorted again and went to lie down, her headache still pounding but the mage continued to talk, "My name is Aziari. What about you, what's your name archer?"

She was quiet as she thought about it. No one had asked her name since she had gotten into Skyrim over a year ago but the looks she got from people were enough to tell her that she wasn't welcomed. So, if she was to die, why not tell someone her name?

"My name is Inielonwe. As you have heard from the bastard earlier, I am an archer. I learned about bows and arrows when I was younger and practiced until I could confidently say that I could survive off my skill."

"So we are alike, we both have known our skills since we were young and have grown up around it. But I have to say this, you are not from around here, are you Inielonwe? You don't talk like anyone from Skyrim. Even some of the Altmer or Orsimer talk a certain way if they have been in Skyrim long enough."

Inielonwe eyes went wide, this was no ordinary mage; she was a hell of a lot smarter than ones she had meet, prancing around casting fireballs spells for the amusement of politicians.

"Yes, that's true" she said slowly, unease beginning to grow inside her. How much could she trust this other prisoner on the other side of this wall? "I come from a land far from Skyrim"

"I can tell that you don't like me," was the blunt reply. "I have a habit of doing that, seeming to be wiser than my actual age. I scared some of the older mages back when I was still at the College"

Inielonwe was about to ask a question when there was some loud banging, followed by someone yelling, "Alright, its dusk, all of you prisoners, shut up or you'll have to spend the night with some of us lads and let me tell you, its been while since we had a lady friend"

Laughter followed and Inielonwe gritted her teeth as the light disappeared, plunging everything into darkness.

"We will talk more in the morning" whispered Aziari, "Trust me when I say, you don't want to know what they can do to some of the woman who push their luck"

The fear and anger in her voice was enough to convince Inielonwe to keep her mouth shut as she quietly moved around on the straw bedding, trying to find a nice spot to lie on. Finally settling on lying down on her back, she stared at the ceiling as her eyes slowly got used to the darkness. She could hear Aziari's quiet breathing and assumed she had somehow managed to fall asleep. Letting out a sigh, she continued to stare at the ceiling with her hands behind her head till she felt her eyelids grow heavy.

As she felt sleep take her, she only hoped that when morning came, she would have an idea on how to get out of here.

* * *

_Inielonwe couldn't believe her luck. Not only had she just sold some weapons she had found for a decent enough price but had also found a new bow and managed to convince the shopkeeper to lower the price by about 10 Septims. She patted her coin purse and felt proud of herself .A coin purse that was heavy was a good coin purse to her; whether it belong to her some of the coin was always up for debate._

_Sitting down on a bench that was outside of an inn, she looked around. The town she was in was small; the only buildings that stood out were the lumber mill that started the town. the inn and the general goods store. It had taken her some time, but she finally had the equipment she needed to get started on her new life. Good-bye Summerset Isles, hello Skyrim._

_Standing up, she made her way down the inn steps and onto the cobbled path that would lead her out of town and towards Falkreath._

"_Hey High Elf, be careful when you go down that road, there have been many attacks by bandits," called the blacksmith as Inielonwe past him and his shop. Waving a dismissing hand at him, she continued down the road, pasting the gate and the guards. Waking down the road, she took in some of the sights. Large pine trees growing on slated rock and soil were to her left as a softly bubbling river was to her right._

_The scenery in Skyrim was beautiful if not rugged and dangerous but she didn't mind, it was a very nice change to the clean cut gardens and constant clear pastures she had grown up seeing all of her life. Like how mountain flowers or snowberries grew in the hard rocky soil was proof that anyone who lived in this province had to be hardy and hard-working._

"_Help me! Someone help me!" cried as a Nord came running up the path and towards Inielowne. He was flailing his arms and had a thin layer of sweat covering his red face. His clothes were crinkled, there were moons under his armpits and there was dirt and grass all over his leggings. _

'_Crap' she thought as the man came right up to her, she knew where this was going to go._

"_Please, you must help me. A group of bandits attacked me as I was making a deliver. Oh, you must help me" he cried, tears threatening to fall from his eyes._

_She looked at the man before stepping around him and continued walking. The man seemed to be stunned before turning around and called angrily at her, "Didn't you hear me, I said that I was-"_

"_Attacked by bandits and that you need help. Yes I heard you but I can't help you. I'm in a hurry, I have to get to Falkreath in a few days and then make my way to Riften. So, if you really need help, continue on the path and you will come to a town called Riverwood, they have guards and thugs-for-hire, they can help you there." Inielonwe said as she continued to walk away. Really, it was like every sucker was getting robbed these days and they were asking even bigger suckers to help them. Well, not today, there was no gain for her if she had to risk her life for some poor farmer unless there was-_

"_I have gold, I will pay you if you can at least help me distract the bandits long enough to see if I can grab the more important items that I need to deliver to Solitude," he cried. That made her stop._

_Getting shot at by arrows from several bandits and having more charge at you with heavy two-handed weapons was not fun but if there was gold in it; it might be worth it to at least help the loser grab some things and have extra gold in her pocket, especially if she was going to Riften. If the rumours about that city and its notorious "Thieves Guild" were half true at least, extra gold would always be needed._

"_Alright," she said as she turned around and walked back to the somewhat relieved man, "If you make good on your part on having gold for me, I'll help you out. But remember, I am, in no way, responsible for your health. If you get killed or injured and we are about to be overrun by bandits, I am leaving you there. Understood?"_

_The man nodded and pointed down the road. "I was on a path that passed by an old town that was destroyed twenty years ago by a dragon. They came out of the bush and surrounded me before I ran a chance, they were all armed to the teeth, and I barely managed to escape with my life."_

_She nodded and followed the man; she had heard this story from several others before. They were always attacked by a decent number of bandits but they always seemed more interested in the items and produce they were carrying, rather than the gold they had in the pockets, which was extremely odd bandit behaviour._

"_There, it was there" he said, as he pointed up the road, "I was attacked and they took everything. My entire livelihood was in that deliver, if I lose all of that cargo, I will be broke and forced to live like a skeever."_

"_Yes yes, just make sure you make due on your part. I need that gold" said Inielowne and the man gave her a sour and dark look but she ignored it. She was use to those looks by now, if it wasn't the fact that she was an Altmer, a High Elf, then it was because how she only seemed to care about the gold. Which wasn't true, she cared greatly for having gold in her purse but there was more to her, but would they care? Did they bother to understand?_

"_So, it was here? Where's your cart, where's your horse? Usually bandits destroy the cart and kill the horse or horses for meat and leather." She said as she looked around where this 'attack' happen. There was no sign of any struggle, or of any attack. The branches on the bush surrounding the area weren't broken, meaning that no one seemed to jump out which would mean that this was-_

"_A trap" she said, as she quickly grabbed her bow and strung it with an iron arrow as she pointed it to the man, who was now smiling quite coldly._

"_Too late" said a voice behind her but before she could turn around, stars and moonbeams exploded in her view and she fell to the ground in a heap, her vision swimming._

"_Well done," said the voice as more footsteps came from behind her, "You did as you said you would and you have my thanks"_

"_Yes yes, that is all good. But about my cargo? You said that you would give me back my cargo if I bought you someone to take my place in your dungeon." Asked the man as he rubbed his hands together._

"_Yes, I shall give you your cargo, but first: did you pray to the Divines?" asked the voice, as Inielonwe heard several bows be loaded with arrows. The man stopped grinning and paled as he saw that he had been had._

"_I shall give you twenty seconds, if you're out of range by then. We won't fire. That time starts now." and Inielonwe saw the man took off like rabbit but felt cold when she heard a voice call quietly, "Fire."_

_He let out a desperate scream when the arrows pierced him and fell to the ground. Several bandits ran after the man and raised their weapons to finish him. She closed her eyes as she heard their swords pierce his flesh and the man cried out in agony before all was silent._

"_Twenty seconds, two seconds, looks like I'm bad at counting everything except gold coins and sultry maidens. Come on; let's get this one with the others in the dungeon. It's almost time for the auction." He said, and that was all she could remember before everything went black._

* * *

"Inielonwe? Inielonwe?! Wake up!" hissed a voice as she opened her eyes groggily. Oh yeah, that was how she got into this mess, some stupid idiot made a deal with the bandit that was in charge for his cargo and he paid for it with his life.

"Are you up yet?" Aziari asked, as she got herself into a sitting position.

"Yeah, I'm up. When do we get something to eat? I could really use horker meat, grilled leeks, and oven baked bread with really sweet mead," said Inielonwe as she rubbed her eyes. Her headache was pretty much gone but her stomach was growling like a wolf.

"I don't know if you're joking or actually being serious. But if you look around your cell, there should be a wooden plate with some cheese and beard with a cup of water. But make sure you don't eat it all at once, that has to last you the whole day," said Aziari. Shuffling could be heard coming from her cell.

"You must be joking," was Inielonwe's reply as her eyes fell upon her meagre meal. The cheese was turning blue, the bread looked stale and she didn't trust the look of that cup holding her only drinking water.

"Nope. And you might as well get used to it until-"began Aziari

"The auction. I know, I heard the bandits talking about it when I was captured." Finished Inielonwe as she stood up and stumbled towards the door where her meal was waiting.

"…yes, and that terrifies me. There were many others in here before me, males and females of the same age as me or even younger. But now, they are gone. Sold off by the bandits who live in his camp, and we two are all that remain," said Aziari quietly as Inielonwe forced the food down her throat and felt like it weighed in her stomach like stones.

"Well?" asked Inielowne.

"Well what?" was Aziari's reply and Inielowne fought the urge to roll her eyes even though Aziari couldn't see her.

"Don't tell me that you plan on sitting here, waiting for the day when we get placed on a stage and have assholes decide our fates," snapped Inielowne, "I, for one, plan to escape, kill every single bandit I find in this damn pit of Oblivion and burn this place to the ground, with nothing but ashes to say that something once existed here."

Aziari was silent and Inielonwe couldn't help but growl under her breath. Here she was, ready to do whatever it took to get out of here, and the only other person that could help her was some weak-willed-

"I have noticed some things about the bandits that live here and have a vague plan. If you are in, we can try it and hope to the great Divines that it works"' was Aziara's response, but it was so quiet that Inielonwe had to push herself into the cell door to hear it.

"I'm in; there is no way that I am giving up without a fight. If I am to die, let me die fighting," said Inielowne strongly, her convictions clear in her voice.

"You are either brave, fearless or quite quite stupid. Let's see which one you are. Inielowne, I know that we have gone over this but you are an archer, correct?" asked Aziari quietly.

"Yes. Why?" she asked but she was hushed so severely by Aziara that she repeated herself in a lower voice.

"There are three types of bandits that walk the halls. One that uses heavy armour and two-handed weapons, one that uses light armour and one-handed weapons and shields or magic and ones that use light armour with bows, arrows and daggers. The ones with the big weapons you can hear walking down the hallways, the one with the swords are quieter but you can hear their swords and shields bang against the wall or each other. The ones that have bows are the quietest and the hardest to detect." She explained.

Inielowne could say that she was smarter than some people but this logic was completely lost on her. "OK? So?" she asked.

"So, the ones who patrol the hallways and make sure all is in order are the heavy weights, sentries are the sell swords and the ones who make sure the prisoners-_that's us_-are behaving and give them their meals are the archers. With me so far?" explained Aziari and Inielowne nodded. That did make sense but that didn't explain one thing.

"Aziari, you are a mage, you have spells that could probably take out half of the bandits that stalk the halls here like diseased ridden skeevers, why didn't you ever escape till now?" she asked.

There was silence before Aziari replied so quietly; she had to strain to hear her. "Because, I don't have it in me to kill. I have lived all of my life in peace and sincerity in the halls of the College. Never once did I have to use my spells against someone in combat and to be honest; I don't like the sight of blood."

Inielowne was floored; she had never expected that to be the answer to her question. So she did the only thing she could in this situation: she laughed.

"It's not funny! Try being me!" she heard Aziari growl, "Besides, I didn't know what to do. Never had I thought when I left the College about a few days ago that this would happen!"

"Shut up back there!" they heard a bandit yell, "If you think everything is so funny, wait till the day after tomorrow. You're going to meet a whole lot of fantastic people who are interested in your skins!"

That made Inielowne shut up right away as her eyes went huge. She was screwed; there was no way that they could make a plan right away to es-

"We'll escape tonight. I have a plan." said Aziari calmly, breaking Inielowne out of her despairing thoughts.

"How?" she asked.

"There is a guard, an archer, _which was why I was doubling-checking about you being an archer yourself_; he has a key to the cell doors and to the other doors. I have heard them jingle as he makes his way through here late at night. What we will do is I will trip him, and you will grab his keys, use them and we will get out of here." Aziari said as she outlined her plan.

"Not bad but your forgetting a few things. One: we will have to kill the guards, no way around that. Two: how do we get out of here? This place seems pretty big. Three: It`s black as night down here when its lights out." Inielowne stated, counting them off on her fingers.

"One: I know that. Two: I have a spell that could help. And three: I know, and again, I have a spell that could help. Any other questions?"

Inielowne was silent and Aziari said gently, "Very well, we escape tonight."

* * *

The hours passed by slowly till it was almost nightfall and Inielowne was twitchy from the energy and possibility of freedom. Aziari was right about the bandits. Muscle bound brutes walked down the halls, their weapons and armour clanging in the stone hallways, not even bothering to give a simple glance to either of them. There was a sentry posted at a corner before their cells a little distance off and the bandits would always talk and laugh about something crude before parting.

Finally when Inielowne thought she was about to lose it, the bandit made the same call about it being lights out and everything went black. Inielowne held her breathe as she crept quietly towards the cell door, she heard some shuffling from the cell next to her and knew that Aziari was doing the same thing.

The minutes seem to past by slowly like an lumbering horker and Inielowne felt her eyes grow heavy when she heard the quiet footsteps of someone walking down the hall. Getting into a crouching position, she felt the bars until she found gaps that would allow her hands and arms to pass through and waited.

The footsteps came closer and closer and Inielowne felt her body tense as she waited for Aziari to do her part. There was an undignified squawk as she heard the bandit trip and fall to the ground. Thrusting her arms through the cell door she grabbed onto the bandit and tried to find the keys. He thrashed and sworn. Fearing that his noise would call the others bandits to them, she wrapped her hands around some part of him and pulled him towards the cell door. Pulling him into a choke hold, she began to squeeze his throat.

The bandit wheezed and fought hard, determined not to die but Inielowne's desire to survive became her strength as she continued to squeeze, cutting off his air supply. The bandit's struggles became less and less until he gave a twitch and lied still. But Inielowne didn't let go, this was an old trick. Let the enemy think you are dead and then when they let you go, stand up and stab you in the back.

She squeezed even tighter and felt for a heartbeat, it was weak but still there. She held on for another minute until his heart stopped beating. He was dead.

Letting him go, she let him fall to his side before feeling for the keys. Inielowne smiled when she found a whole bunch in his pocket and carefully pulled them out. Standing up slowly, she felt around for the keyhole and began to insert the keys, one at a time, until she heard a wonderful **click**.

Opening the door slowly, she stepped over the dead bandit and made her way to Aziari's cell.

"Aziari. Stand back. I'm going to open your cell," she whispered and she heard Aziari get up and move to the back of the cell as she entered the key into the keyhole and opened the door.

"Get the bow and arrows from the bandit; you are going to need it." Aziari whispered, a tremble in her voice. Inielowne nodded and quietly made her way to the bandit. The sounds of the bandit's struggle for life must have shaken her pretty badly but there was no time to waste on thinking about their captures. They had to escape and make sure that no one else would be stuck in their positions again.

Grabbing the bow and arrows, she turned and asked, "Turn on a light; I wanna steal this guy's armour. No way am I going out in these rags."

There a shuffle and a light emerged out of nowhere, blinding Inielowne and making her almost fall to the ground. "Watch it!" she hissed, "You should have waited till I turned around."

There a quiet "sorry" and Inielowne turned back and got a good look at the bandit. It was a dark elf; his red hair seeming to burn under the magical light but his dark color skin seemed waxy and diseased while his glazed eyes seem to stare into empty space. Only staring at him for a few seconds, she quickly began to undress him, stripping him until he was only in his cloth underwear. Peeling off her disgusting smelling rags, she slipped on the light armour and grimaced. The fur armour was too tight in the chest but too loose everywhere else but it will have to do, at least until she found new armour anyways.

Standing straight and placing the arrows on her back while holding the bow in her right hand she turned around just as the ball of light went out.

"Let's go, its time" was what she simply said. She heard Aziari shuffle her feet and say, "Come on, if we go this way we should get lucky and not have to deal with too many bandits."

"Right, but first, let's deal with the cells. If someone sees them open and empty, we will have a problem."

"But-?" began Aziari, but Inielowne held up a hand as she said, "I have an idea."

Grabbing the dead bandit by his arms, she pulled him into her cell and quietly closed it. Picking her old rags off the floor, she threw them into Aziari's cell and closed it.

"That should confuse them for a few seconds and buy us some time when they do set the alarm," said Inielowne, "Let's go. You lead, I'll follow."

Making sure her steps were light, she followed Aziari who seemed to have no problem at all walking in this pitch black darkness. But soon Inielowne's eyes got use to the dark and she could finally see the outline of Aziari, who was walking a few steps ahead. They looked to be the same height, and female. But there was something odd about her. Her head looked… misshapen was the best word to describe it.

She came to a halt at a crossway with two wooden doors. Aziari lifted one hand and placed it on the door that was in front of her. She let it stay there for a few seconds before removing and opened the door on her left. Before Inielowne could say anything, Aziari beckoned her to follow.

She cautionily followed her and closed the door, not really understanding what was going on.

"There are some chests in here with items, look through them for better armour or bows. I'm going to look for some mage robes; the rags I am wearing aren't doing a thing for my tail." She said calmly as light once again flared from her hand, blinding Inielowne once again.

"Yeah sure, no problem" said Inielowne as she made her way to one of the chests. "Yeah, I know the feeling. While putting on this armour, it pinched my ears, elf ears are sensitive you know?"

Inielowne was about to open the chest when something came back to her: _her tail?_

Aziari was about to open a cupboard when something came back to her: _Elf ears?_

Both Inielowne and Aziari turned around and stared at each other, stunned by the turn of events. Aziari couldn't believe that the Altmer in front of her was an archer and Inielowne couldn't believe that the Khatjiit in front of her was a mage.

"Oh you _must_ be joking" they both said.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO! I HOPE THAT YOU GUYS ENJOY IT! I ACTUALLY FIND IT EASIER TO WRITE FOR THIS FIC THAN ANY OF MY OTHER FICS SINCE ALL I HAVE TO DO TO BE INSPIRED TO LISTEN TO SKYRIM OST SOUNDTRACKS FROM YOUTUBE.**

**DON'T FORGET TO FAV AND REVIEW OR THE FROSTSPIDERS MIGHT GET YOU! XD**

**Edit 16/07/2014- Made some corrections with spelling and grammar. If you see any mistakes, let me know. Thank-you.**


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